That's exile! And if the girl don't mind, what does it matter ?" "Mr.Herbert Fellingham, I think, would like to go to bed, papa," said Annette.
"Miss Smith must be getting cold," Fellingham hinted.
"Bounce away indoors," replied Van Diemen, and he led them like a bull.
Annette was disinclined to leave them together in the smoking-room, and under the pretext of wishing to see her father to bed she remained with them, though there was a novel directness and heat of tone in Herbert that alarmed her, and with reason.

He divined in hideous outlines what had happened.

He was no longer figuring on easy ice, but desperate at the prospect of a loss to himself, and a fate for Annette, that tossed him from repulsion to incredulity, and so back.
Van Diemen begged him to light his pipe.
"I'm off to London to-morrow," said Fellingham.

"I don't want to go, for very particular reasons; I may be of more use there.

I have a cousin who's a General officer in the army, and if I have your permission--you see, anything's better, as it seems to me, than that you should depend for peace and comfort on one man's tongue not wagging, especially when he is not the best of tempers if I have your permission--without mentioning names, of course--I'll consult him." There was a dead silence.
"You know you may trust me, sir.